


Don We Now Our Gay Apparel

by hurricanine



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 07:50:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hurricanine/pseuds/hurricanine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael wonders if it is literally impossible for Trevor to go somewhere without causing trouble. Trevor is just trying to help him pick out Christmas presents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don We Now Our Gay Apparel

**Author's Note:**

> I won't apologize for this. You only have Synekdokee to blame.

It was three days before Christmas and the mall was packed from wall to wall with last-minute shoppers, filled to the brim with frantic parents, screaming children, and inebriated mall Santas. The mall police were on high alert for shoplifters, which made it the perfect time for a little pick-pocketing. Within half an hour Michael and Trevor had scored enough to make Christmas a reality for little Tracey and Jim.

“What say you, Papa Townley?” Trevor grinned from over the top of a towering display of toys. “Teddy bear? Or a princess doll?”

Michael narrowed his eyes at the toys in question. Tracey was going through a pink phase, which he secretly hoped she would grow out of. There were only so many tea parties a man could attend. “Better make it the doll.”

“Teddy bear it is!” Trevor tucked the stuffed bear under his arm and trotted off across the store. Michael rolled his eyes and headed into the toddler section, grabbing something noisy and brightly colored to keep three-year-old Jimmy preoccupied.

It wouldn't be enough to make up for being gone most of the year, but it had taken one heist after another to keep both of the brats fed and clothed. Amanda, too, required constant doting, but it was worth it in the long run. If Michael could just find the right combination of presents, he would be back in her good graces, and whatever was going on between him and Trevor could be over and done with.

By the time they escaped the toy department, most of their hard-earned cash was gone. Amanda would just have to be happy with whatever Michael managed to squeeze in with the rest of the money. Jewelry and expensive clothes were out, then, which left – lingerie.

Women loved sexy lingerie, especially women like Amanda. Right? An unconventional Christmas present, maybe, but she used to love shit like that when she was still stripping, and... Michael wasn't good at these sorts of things, alright?

Feeling somewhat out of place amid a gaggle of teenage girls and blushing young couples, Michael picked through the racks of lacy underwear and skimpy bras in a futile search for something within his price range. It didn't help that Trevor kept sliding past him, pressing up against him just too firmly to be an accident. Michael ignored it at first, until the subtle pushes became less-than-subtle gropes. After one particularly heated touch, Trevor disappeared for a while, but he was back before Michael could fully appreciate his absence.

“Michael,” Trevor whispered, sidling up closer as Michael examined an overpriced g-string. “M.”

“You're not helping,” Michael muttered, moving away. Trevor followed, crowding him against a metal rack. “What do you _want_?”

Trevor's grin was entirely inappropriate, as were his words. “'m horny.”

Michael glared at him in return, ignoring the slight twitch his dick gave. “ _No_.”

“C'mon.” He pressed closer. Michael became increasingly of the eyes of a dozen other shoppers looking in their direction. “Been thinkin' 'bout your mouth all day. Want you t-”

“Shut _up_.” Michael grabbed Trevor by the neck and forced him back, letting the momentum carry him as he dragged Trevor across the boutique.

There was only one dressing room. By some act of God there was a lock on the door. Michael shoved Trevor through and kicked the door shut, jamming the lock into place before throwing Trevor bodily against the wall, the floor-length mirror shuddering as Trevor's back slammed against it.

“Fuck you,” Michael growled, curling his fingers tight in the front of Trevor's shirt.

“That's what I'm goin' for.” Trevor smirked at him, daring him, provoking him. Eight years running with the man at his side and Michael still fell for his tricks each time. Maybe that said more about Michael than it did about Trevor.

“I told you, I'm done with this,” Michael said, but Trevor was moving forward nevertheless, grabbing Michael's hips and bringing them together. Michael held out for a moment longer, then swore and pressed Trevor back against the wall.

Normally, kissing Trevor was like fighting, rough and abrasive like everything else they did in life – but it only took a few moments before Trevor surrendered, rocking his hips against Michael's almost like he was _teasing_ him.

“What's gotten into you?” Michael muttered, feeling his chin burn with the rasp of Trevor's day-old stubble.

He expected a witty retort or the usual proposition. He got a lascivious smirk instead. “Why don't you find out?”

Trevor cocked his hips again; to his shame, it took little other urging for Michael to get down on his knees. For a brief moment, he wondered how he arrived at this point. It wasn't the first time, and though he firmly repeated in his mind that it _would_ be the last, he knew that it wouldn't. He pushed Trevor against the mirror; his gaze was drawn upward against his will, but it was worth it to see Trevor with his cheeks flushed and pupils blown so wide they nearly overtook the hazel of his eyes.

Michael pressed the heel of his palm against the swell in Trevor's jeans and smirked as the other man soon began to shift. Patience never really was Trevor's virtue. Slowly and, he hoped, torturously, he dragged down the zipper – then stopped halfway, his mouth gone dry.

“T, what the fuck.”

Ah, the source of Trevor's fine mood – beneath the threadbare jeans there was nothing but black lace and skin. The panties were trying desperately to do their job, but they certainly hadn't been built with a man's anatomy in mind. The fabric was stretched to its limit over the bulge of Trevor's cock.

Michael stared long enough that Trevor began shifting again; he'd never known the other to be embarrassed about anything, let alone wearing women's clothing, but-

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Trevor growled. “I know you've banged that whore of yours enough times to pop out two kids, but surely you haven't forgotten how to-”

Michael pulled the zipper down the rest of the way, his jaw set in an angry line as he glowered up at Trevor. “Shut your mouth.”

“As long as you open yours,” Trevor retorted, but then he fell blessedly silent.

Michael leaned forward and dragged his tongue along the pattern of the lace, the dry taste of cotton lingering in his mouth. Then again, then _again_ , until the fabric was damp with his spit and Trevor was groaning quietly above. His mouth fit perfectly over the straining bulge of Trevor's cock and the sounds his friend made became more desperate, the edge of a whine, as Michael mouthed at the fabric which constrained him.

He sat back on his heels, one hand clamped on Trevor's hip to keep him in place, and brought his fingertips to the hem of the lingerie. He tugged it down, just enough that the head of Trevor's cock peeked out from the top, so pretty and flushed where it rubbed against Trevor's belly. Depraved as it might be, Michael couldn't get enough. He pulled down the panties until the elastic settled snug across the other man's balls, then took his cock in hand.

Michael wrapped his fingers around the base, Trevor's skin like a searing brand in his palm, and brought his mouth to the leaking tip. Some twisted sort of muscle memory kicked in and his lips parted automatically, letting the head of Trevor's cock rest heavy on his tongue. He glanced up to watch Trevor draw in a tight breath, the tension of holding himself still showing in the line of Trevor's shoulders. Without looking away, Michael slid his lips down the length in his mouth and swallowed on reflex.

“F-F _uck_ ,” Trevor bit out, hands clutching uselessly at the sheer surface of the mirror. “Oh, that's it, Mikey. Oh, god, yeah...”

Michael drew back and swallowed again, licking his lips before speaking. “I said, shut your mouth,” he growled. Without missing a beat, he returned to the task at hand, letting his eyes fall shut as he took Trevor into his mouth once more. With unnerving ease, Michael slipped into the familiar rhythm; he was painfully hard, just from the sounds he was drawing out of the other man, but he didn't let it distract him.

He pressed his tongue tight against the underside of Trevor's cock with each bob of his head, sucking just lightly enough that Trevor's hips tried to follow through, rising until they met the resistance of Michael's hands. Trevor made no effort to keep quiet; the thought that they might be caught like this sent a curl of lust through Michael's belly, made him quicken his pace.

“ _Michael_...” He glanced up in warning and could have grinned, if his mouth had not been so preoccupied, to see Trevor bite down hard on his bottom lip.

It wasn't long before Michael felt Trevor shudder beneath him, the heady taste of pre-come spreading on his tongue. He drew his mouth from Trevor's cock, lingering just long enough to hear Trevor's moans grow ragged, to _feel_ him lose control, then pumped his hand through the mess of pre-come and spit until Trevor came apart in his grasp. Trevor moaned and tossed back his head, the rocking of his hips stuttering until he finally stilled and swayed on the spot.

Michael didn't give him a chance to recover. Pulling frantically at the front of his jeans, he stood and pressed himself flush against Trevor. He was shaking already, on the verge of coming like a fucking teenager; a few jerks of his hips, thrusting mindlessly against rough lace and slick skin, and he was quickly following suit.

Michael panted against Trevor's neck, the other man breathing just as heavily. The dressing room seemed superheated and humid, his clothing sticking to his skin with sweat and god knows what else. Gingerly, he backed away, grimacing at the stains on his shirt and jeans; Trevor certainly didn't fare better, but he grinned lazily up at Michael and wiggled his hips.

“Well, I know what I'm getting _you_ for Christmas, M.”

Michael shook his head, too relaxed after his orgasm to be properly disgusted, and tucked himself back into his jeans.

“Then you better count that as your Christmas present, _T_.”

 

\- - -

 

It wasn't until he had reached home, sneaking in as quietly as Santa Claus himself, and stashed the presents in the bedroom closet while Amanda slept on unaware, that he discovered that Trevor had stuck those fucking lacy panties into one of the bags.


End file.
